


Welcome You Home

by nevereverever



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oneshot, Post canon, So Married, yuuri is v reckless and viktor has feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:01:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9277196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevereverever/pseuds/nevereverever
Summary: Yuuri knows something is wrong when he sees a shimmering spot in his vision.But he wants that gold metal.Soooo....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey buddies! I stopped writing fanfic and am making a brief but glorious exception for yoi. Enjoy!

One of Yuuri’s favorite thing about Ice Castle Hasetsu was that it was dark. Just light enough to see the flash of his skate blades as he flew through the air, letting everything else fall behind him. It was quiet too. On nights where he let himself in, he could hear the soft sounds of ice on metal, and he could breathe.

The rink where they were holding the Grand Prix Final, his last Grand Prix Final, was anything but dark and quiet. Lights blasted into the packed arena, and even at its quietest, there was still the low roar of thousands of whispering voices.

Yuuri knew he should be used to this type of thing, the noise and the lights, but it just never quite sunk in.

“Yuuri?” Someone, Victor maybe, asked from behind him. He turned to look, and found his husband’s eyes staring back at him with unmatched intensity.

“Yes?” Yuuri responded, continuing to stretch though he knew he had been warmed up for a while.

“You look like you've got something on your mind and-”

Yuuri cut him off “I always flub my jumps when I have something on my mind. I know.” A smile flickered across his face, if only at the wrinkles between Victor’s brows.

“Are you worried about your routine? You’ll do fine.” Victor said. He still wasn't the best at dealing with Yuuri’s anxiety, but that was fine. Yuuri smiled in earnest.

“Yeah, I'm alright. Get ready love, you're up next.” Yuuri placed a soft kiss of Victor’s lips, then on his own wedding ring. Smiling, Viktor skated confidently onto the ice, like the crowd and the lights weren’t even there.

Viktor was wonderful, of course, each move full of grace and passion. His jumps weren't as intense as they had been, which he groaningly attributed to his aging body. 

As Yuuri watched, he saw something in the middle of his vision. A little dark spot. From the lights, he presumed, and drew his full attention back to Viktor. 

They both had agreed to retire after this season, knowing that at some point, they had to move on. They had one skate left each. Nationals. And then they were done. 

As Viktor finished up his final step sequence, one of his most beautiful, Yuuri was certain he could see just a glimmer of a tear left unshed twinkling in his eye. And he sighed.

When Viktor’s routine ended, Yuuri grounded himself again and realized the spot had grown to a shimmering crescent, engulfing increasing portions of his vision. He knew this feeling. A migraine aura.

Shit.

Yuuri greeted Victor with a kiss, which was in turn greeted but a swearing Yurio, who was preparing to go on. Yuuri tried his hardest to look like nothing was wrong, and Viktor bought it.

“You did amazing my love, I'm so proud that I'll get to kick your ass.” Yuuri jokingly remarked, his forehead on Viktor’s. The shimmering crescent had grown dark and eaten up half his vision, but Yuuri feigned confidence.

After Viktor’s scores came up, impressive, but seemingly not good enough, and Yurio’s music began, the aura had faded. And all at once, like a brick wall, or a tsunami, or the ice after a failed quad, it hit him.

The lights, already too bright, stabbed through his eyes like daggers, and Yurio’s music felt like a vice grip. His eyes slammed shut and he grabbed the wall for balance.

Part of him, and a big part at that, very much wanted to crumple to the ground and sob, to not go on with the lights and music and clapping. But from the corner of his mostly nonfunctional eye, he caught a glimpse of Viktor, his eyes still gleaming and his arms slung around a very uncomfortable looking Yakov.

Viktor.

He could, he would do this for Viktor. Viktor was the reason, the beautiful, graceful, powerful dork of a reason that he was here. And he would not let him down. Yuuri heard the familiar closing notes of Yurio’s music, and despite the noise, took a breath.

“Yuuri!!!” Viktor yelled from just a few feet away, drawing a big wince from his husband. Viktor balked. “Are you okay?” He asked, quieter this time.

“I'm fine.” Yuuri replied as he fumbled with trembling fingers to get his skate guards off. The pain in his head was enormous, and it took everything in him not to cry. But it was his last competition with Viktor. And he wanted the gold.

“Just keep your eyes on me.”

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Yuuri skated out of the center of the ice. The lights, the crowds, the feeling of his heart pounding in his chest all made him unsteady and pained.

But none of it mattered. Because he could do this.

The first chord of his music played, and it was almost like he forgot he was in pain. This, he thought, is what I was born to do.

Viktor, Yurio, and Yakov watched together from the sidelines. When Yuuri was coming out of his first combination jump, Viktor noticed the slight grimace on his face, the tears on his cheeks.

“Oh god, he’s injured. Yakov, he's hurt” Viktor whispered, barely audible above the music and the crowd.

"He's not favoring a leg or wobbling. His jumps have been solid. I'm not going to stop him just yet." Yakov gruffly responded, an edge of fear creeping into his voice.

Viktor turned back to the ice and prayed, just prayed, that it wouldn't come to that.

Yuuri didn't care that it hurt, didn't care that every jostle was like a stab to the brain. He wanted to show that audience his love. Not for Viktor, they had seen that. For the ice.

He remembered the first time he went skating, the euphoric joy of being able to move in ways he had never been able to before. Of being free.

He remembered winning his first ever junior competition, the weight of his medal heavy against his chest and the pain of his cheeks when he couldn't stop smiling.

He remembered days of practice when he was so sad or tired or sore or angry that he didn't want to skate and the ice welcomed him anyway.

He remembered days where he couldn't breathe and he couldn't think and the ice welcomed him anyway.

Viktor watch with disbelief as Yuuri flew through his program with unparalleled joy and grace. He watched as each of Yuuri's jumps went perfectly, hands in the air, landed and rotated with gorgeous precision. He watched as tears streamed down his husbands cheeks with every landing.

Yuuri fell into his final position like it was where he was always meant to be because it was. His chest pumping hard, he felt the pain that had been pushed aside rushing back all at once, and collapsed to the loud cheers of his fans. Stretching his hand in front of him, he felt the cold of the ice hit his palms. As he slid to the floor his cheeks pressed against the cool of the ice and he sighed.

Medtechs skated to him faster than he could have imagined.

“Mr. Katsuki, can you hear me?” One of them said, too loud for Yuuri’s liking. Not wanting to aggravate the ever growing pain in his head, Yuuri gave them a quick thumbs up.

“Migraine. Sorry for worrying you, but I could use some help.” Yuuri groaned, offering his hand to where he heard the voice coming from. He felt himself be lifted from the ice and hands loop around his chest.

They pulled him off the ice and into somewhere, blissfully, dark and quiet without much fuss, and laid him if what felt like the ground. He groaned and rolled onto his side. Slinging his arm over his body to cover his eyes, Yuuri took another deep breath and felt the pain in his head swell with every beat of his heart.

He heard footsteps approaching, each beat sending shockwaves of pain through his head. The steps stopped near his head and he heard a soft sound as someone sat down next to him. 

Yuuri knew it was Viktor as soon as the person next to him grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to his ring. Despite the pain in his head, Yuuri smiled.

“You absolute idiot. I can't believe you did that.” Viktor whispered, his lips brushing against Yuuri’s wrist. Yuuri shushed him, and so Viktor sat in silence, just holding his husband’s hand. For a while at least.

“Do you want to know your score?” Viktor whispered again, as softly as he could, each syllable overflowing with joy. Yuuri nodded, trying to minimally jostle his aching head.

“187.25. Still two skaters to go but Yuuri, it's looking good.” And suddenly, the pain licking tongues of fire through his brain wasn't what was making him cry. 

They say in silence for a while, perhaps an hour or so. Viktor ran smooth finger across Yuuri's forehead, not speaking a word but saying everything. 

“Hey assholes. Gold and bronze. Medal ceremony.” Yurio called, very much too loud for Yuuri's liking. Against what was probably correct to do in cases of migraines, Yuuri pushed himself up, and stood on that podium, loud and bright as it was.

He felt the pain rushing through his head, the cool drifting off the ice, and the medal hanging around his neck and he smiled. The ice was always there to welcome him home. 

After the awards ceremony and being whisked away by medical for an examination, they collapsed into their hotel bed and Yuuri slept off the dregs of the migraine. When he woke up, he felt Viktor still there, stroking smooth patterns up and down his spine.

“Viktor, I'm tired.” He said, voice ringing in his ears, but the pain felt like a long forgotten memory.

“They moved the exhibition just for us. Didn't want you pulling another stunt like earlier. You could have gotten hurt. As your husband, it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, but as your coach I am very mad at you.” Victor contorted his face into a very unconvincing frown, his eyes positively beaming.

“I couldn't go out on a disappointment.” Yuuri whispered. It was all that needed to be said. Viktor softly sighed and kissed Yuuri’s shoulder, a quiet I'm here in the sea of emotions.

Yuuri nestled his head into Viktor's chest and closed his eyes, hoping to get some more sleep.

“No sleeping love. We have the exhibition. And then the banquet.” Viktor said, running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.

“I will agree to the exhibition because I love skating with you and I can think of nothing else that will cure my ills, but I am not going to that banquet.” Yuuri remarked, pushing his slightly sore body out of bed.

“I heard that Chris brought a pole.”

“No Viktor!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some gay times, some finding home

It had been months since the Grand Prix Final, both of them still adjusting to the life of not being a professional figure skater. Viktor kept joking that it was like PTSD, that both of them would roll out of bed after having nightmares about quad axels. Yuuri would laugh sometimes, other times he would smile sadly and bury his eyes in Viktor’s shoulder.

They were both taking a few months off before they started coaching under Yakov, just for a while until they could justifiably say that both had coaching experience. Yakov had insisted that they did, saying that they needed time to become real people or something. It was in spitfire Russian, and Yuuri just wasn’t quite good enough to understand him.

Yuuri woke up one morning with his head on Viktor’s chest and Makkachin sprawled over his legs. It felt pretty idyllic until he realized that the reason he had woken was because Viktor was letting out a soft groan with each outbreath.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asked blearily, sitting up and rubbing the night’s sleep from his eyes.

“Shhhh” Viktor responded, rolling over and pulling a blanket over his head. Yuuri cocked his head to the side in confusion. It was usually Viktor who sprung out of bed, ready to greet the day, but today seemed like quite the opposite.

“Are you sick Vitya?” Yuuri inquired, his furrowed brows and squinted eyes betraying the worry he felt. Luckily Viktor wasn’t able to tell because as far as Yuuri could see, he had buried his face into their mattress so far that they would need a ladder to get him out.

“My head.” Viktor whined, voice mostly muffled by the blankets he had shoveled over his face.

“Just a headache or worse?” Yuuri asked quietly. He tried to keep the volume to a minimum just in case Viktor confirmed what he was suspecting. He ran a soft hand across Viktor’s back in a futile attempt to soothe him.

“Worse. Everything hurts.” Victor said pitifully. Yuuri nodded even though he knew Viktor couldn’t seen him and let out a soft sigh. He had been right, even if he hadn’t wanted to be. 

“I’ll be right back Vitya.” Yuuri said, frowning at his husband nearly writhing in pain. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of Viktor’s head, but that only drew out another groan.

After quickly pulling the blinds down to shut out the soft morning sunlight, Yuuri scrambled around their apartment to gather everything he needed, rushing back as fast as he possibly could.  
Tiptoeing softly back into their bedroom, Yuuri bit back tears at the sight of Viktor. Despite being unable to make out his face, the hard angles and oddly bent limbs of his husband’s body were painful to look at.

“Viktor, I promise it’s dark, can you move the blankets off you?” wincing, Viktor pushed them off, revealing his face twisted with pain, “You don’t have to open your eyes, but I’m going to hand you some water and two pills to take okay?” Yuuri sat back on his heels as Viktor wordlessly complied. He worried at his lip, feeling only a glimpse of what he knew his husband was feeling.

“Lie down Vitya.” Yuuri quietly said as he laid a cool wet towel over Viktor’s eyes, “And I know it’s hard, but don’t squish up your face like that, it only makes it worse.” Yuuri ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair as his husband put in the effort to relax his face and let out a soft sigh of relief. Yuuri smiled.

At that, Yuuri fell silent, taking Viktor’s hand in his and rubbing smooth circles into it, trying to give him something to distract from the pain. It blew over, slowly. The medicine kicked in as fast as it could (Yuuri hadn’t refilled his Imitrex prescription, so all they had was painkiller) which allowed for blissful moments of rest.

When Viktor was finally aware and alert (after cuddles and soup and more pain meds), he placed his head in his husband’s lap and stared up at him with the same intensity he had on the day of the Grand Prix Final, though with notably more cloud to his eyes.

“Yuuri. How did you win the Grand Prix Final like that?” His tone was very nearly awe filled, mostly because he absolutely was. Yuuri hummed and continued weaving his hands through Viktor’s hair.

“To be fair, I’ve had more practice with these. But I guess, when it first hit, I saw you. It was our last skate together, and I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Viktor nearly interjected, but he saw the look in Yuuri’s eyes, and let him continue, “And then once I got on the ice, I was so focused, I just forgot I was in pain. I wanted to show the world how much I loved skating. And I think I did.” Yuuri leaned down and pecked Viktor of the forehead. Smiled.

“You landed a quad flip like that.” Viktor said, voice still full of disbelief. He looked up at Yuuri with pure adoration, and Yuuri flushed red under his gaze.

“I'm pretty darn remarkable, aren't I?” Yuuri said, teasing but still smiling down at Viktor like he was the only thing in the world.

Surprisingly, rather than grill him, Viktor just nodded and let his eyes drift shut. Yuuri smiled. Figure skating legend Viktor Nikiforov falling asleep in his lap. Then again, he thought at this point some would call him a figure skating legend as well, and he blushed just thinking about it. 

Instead of dwelling on it, Yuuri ran his fingers through Viktor's hair and lightly massaged the tension out of his husband’s temples neck and jaw. All the places he knew would hurt.

Though fast asleep, Viktor let out soft sighs confirming for Yuuri that, though he loved the ice, Viktor was home now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was fun! Thanks for reading folks!

**Author's Note:**

> :) let me know if you liked it!


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